Deep Sea Embers

Taran El experienced a chilling scream that seemed to resonate from the depths of a child’s nightmare. This haunting sound cut deep into his very essence, making him feel as though an unseen force was clawing and ransacking his innermost thoughts. It felt like an immense consciousness was attempting to ravage his memories. The sound felt out of place as if it belonged neither to tnor to the realm of understood ideas. This cry echoed, reverberating through every memory and every moment he could bring to mind. Even though the scream was momentary, the disorientation and anguish it instilled in him felt significantly more profound than when he drank the potent Blood Raven Potion.

Moments later, he sensed the rapid disintegration of the “Dream of the Nameless One.” The winds angrily whipped around, and the ground quaked, ripping apart beneath him. Far away, the once mighty World Tree appeared to be succumbing to destruction, while further still, forest outlines seemed to defy gravity, pulling upwards as if attracted by sunknown force above. This chaotic vision plunged into pitch darkness almost instantly. Taran El’s awareness shifted, first recognizing the end of the dream and then feeling the pull of the tangible world. A luminous beacon appeared within this engulfing darkness, its spiral pattern resembling a vortex, which slowly found stability on the opposing wall. As his senses sharpened, he heard the murmurs of others close by – consciousness fully returned, revealing that dawn had broken in the real world.

All around him, people were stirring to wakefulness.

“What just happened? Why did the Dream of the Nameless One disintegrate so abruptly?”

“My last memory is of a powerful windstorm… The distant landscapes appeared to be folding in on themselves…”

“Has anyone been harmed? Are all of us accounted for? Can anyone tell the time?”

Nearby discussions were tinged with evident confusion, suggesting a scene of upheaval.

Rubbing his temples, Taran El tried to suppress the searing pain originating from that otherworldly scream. The sensation was so overpowering it threatened to make him lose consciousness. Gradually, his spinning surroundings began to stabilize.

He realized he was seated on a humble bench leaning against a wall. Around him, the Truth Guardians were slowly regaining their composure, attempting to comprehend what had just transpired. A short distance away, someone had pulled back the drapes, revealing the first rays of morning light washing over the city’s buildings. Outside, the streets were eerily calm, punctuated only by occasional noises.

Gathering his strength, Taran El attempted to stand. Though his thoughts were still in turmoil, having caught snippets of the surrounding conversations gave him the impetus to voice out, “The last sound I perceived might hold sclues…”

Finally, his visibly distressed state caught someone’s attention. A concerned Truth Guardian rushed to his side, steadying Taran El just as his knees threatened to buckle. “Repeat what you just mentioned?”

“With all that transpired, I surmise I might have connected with the sentient essence of Atlantis, however…” Taran El said, his expression creasing with worry. He then abruptly stopped, his gaze darting nervously to a specific corner of the room, “…Where’s Sir Ted Lir? He hasn’t cback?!”

The atmosphere in the room grew tense as its occupants becincreasingly aware of the glaring absence at its center. Almost in unison, their eyes moved to the central chair, where the Truth Keeper, Sir Ted Lir, should have been seated. This was the very spot where he had initiated his descent into the dream realm. Now, while everyone else who had embarked on that dream journey had since awakened and returned to their present reality, the chair meant for their esteemed Keeper remained starkly unoccupied.

An uncomfortable hush fell upon the room, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone. After what felt like an eternity, a voice, shaky and uncertain, ventured a suggestion, “…Is it possible Sir Ted Lir awoke before the rest of us and exited the room?”

Another voice, filled with conviction, responded, “No, that’s simply not how the Keeper operates. Furthermore, the door is enchanted with a seal. Anytit’s opened — whether from the inside or the outside — it leaves a distinct mark.”

Taran El, his face etched with concern, tuned into the hushed conversations. Gently, he freed himself from the comforting grip of the individual who had helped stabilize him earlier. Drawn to the unsettling void at the room’s center, he slowly approached the empty chair.

Beside the chair, a small table stood adorned with the remnants of their dream journey. There lay containers that once held the potent elixir they had consumed. An arrangement of seven droppers, accompanied by a large bottle resembling a beer bottle, sat idle. They glistened, catching and refracting the soft hues of the morning sun that flowed generously through the nearby window.

In the background, the muffled sounds of the outside world began to permeate the room. They were sounds of turmoil originating from an unclear direction. Urgent shouts echoed from the streets, accompanied by the hurried patter of feet echoing in adjacent corridors. Outside the window, tree shadows appeared animated, fluttering and swaying, seemingly in response to the unfolding chaos.

……

As Nina was jolted back to consciousness from the disintegrating Dream of the Nameless One, she felt momentarily disoriented. The sensation she experienced this tduring her abrupt exit from the dream world was unlike any other she had felt before. It wasn’t just a matter of waking up from a deep slumber. Instead, it felt as though an overpowering force was violently tearing the dream realm to shreds from its very core.

Mr. Morris, seated opposite her at the table, caught her attention. His deep-set, contemplative gaze echoed her own sentiments, signaling he too sensed the abnormal nature of their sudden return to reality.

As she began to gather her thoughts, an exclamation from Shirley pulled her attention towards the window. “Hey, hey, hey, check this out! You won’t believe it!”

Setting aside her initial bewilderment and disregarding Shirley’s unconventional choice of words, Nina found herself instinctively getting up to see what had caused the commotion.

Outside, the scenery was dramatically transformed. Majestic trees, mirroring the very ones she had encountered in her recent dream, now stood tall and imposing. These magnificent structures seemed to have swallowed the entire city whole. Their sprawling branches and dense canopies stretched out in every direction, intertwining with skyscrapers, nesting amidst towers and enveloping structures in their woody embrace. It was as if an ancient, sprawling forest had decided to superimpose itself over the urban expanse, causing a surreal fusion of the two worlds.

Gathering by the expansive window in the living room, Nina, Morris, and Vanna gazed at this unexpected metamorphosis of their once-familiar urban landscape. The sight rendered them speechless, struggling to reconcile with this uncanny merger of nature and city.

Shirley, from her vantage point, took in the ensuing chaos that had gripped the streets below.

The sudden intrusion of the forest had thrown the city-state’s denizens into a state of alarm. Buildings were either partially visible, with only broken walls and shattered rooftops peeking out, or completely engulfed by the dense foliage, leaving the fate of its inhabitants a looming question. The collective shock from the populace was palpable. Terrified screams echoed, with sresidents trapped within their homes while others appeared entirely consumed by the green behemoth.

A sudden, deafening explosion resonated from a nearby block, causing the group to jump. A breached steam pipeline spewed out high-pressure gas, creating billowing white plumes amidst the treetops. Elsewhere, a burst water pipeline disrupted the asphalt, resulting in a spectacular water fountain that rose, almost defiantly, amidst the towering green giants.

From afar, the ear-piercing, mechanical alarm of a steam-powered walker reverberated, signaling the mobilization of the city’s defense forces. Clearly, despite the unprecedented situation, the guardians of the city were springing into action. The knowledge custodians from the academy were also displaying signs of their preparation; Nina could recognize the distinct sound of a familiar whistle emanating from the labyrinth of streets below.

Even amidst the disorienting aftermath of their collective dreamlike experiences, the disciplined training and meticulous emergency procedures ingrained in the city’s guardians were now proving invaluable. They courageously navigated the expansive forest that had inexplicably sprawled across their urban landscape.

However, the circumstances they faced were unlike anything they could have ever envisioned.

The city was now ensconced in a dense, pulsating forest that held references to elements from antiquated myths and corrupted scriptures. The elves, descendants of an ancient lush era, seemed to be reconnecting with their ancestral homeland in a manner beyond comprehension — they were intertwined with this vast verdant maze.

A sudden gust of wind swept through, causing the forest canopy to sway rhythmically. The foliage rustled, and in that fleeting moment, it seemed as though the trees were murmuring a cryptic message:

“…You are not elves…”

Dazzling paper fragments — each awash in a spectrum of hues — danced amidst the forest’s embrace. They swirled around the warped architectural remnants and the giant trees. This orchestrated dance was accompanied by the forest’s rustling whispers.

Emerging from this mixture of swirling papers, the silhouette of Lucretia took form, settling gracefully atop a colossal tree that loomed near the academy district.

Perched delicately, she grasped a sturdy branch, surveying the transformed streets below. The whispered messages of the forest reached her ears, and she could feel the palpable undertones of frustration and anguish contained within them.

In a hushed mental summon, she uttered, “Rabbi.”

The enigmatic voice of the Nightmare Rabbit immediately responded within the confines of her consciousness, “Rabbi is here~~”

“What’s the current status of those cultists? Are they responsible for this chaos?”

“Rabbi isn’t entirely certain~~ But they too appear disoriented. The unexpected rapidity of the dream’s disintegration seems to have caught them off-guard… their revered Saint has been alerted. They’re currently interrogating those who ventured into the dream. Rabbi had a close call… but fortuitously, I had subtly interwoven my essence among them beforehand…”

Lucretia’s brow furrowed with concern, “Did you completely ‘devour’ any of them? I distinctly recall instructing you to moderate your tendencies.”

“No, no! I merely implanted a hint of my essence — akin to cotton — onto those cultists who journeyed into the dream. It was a necessary measure to accomplish the mission you had taskedwith,” Rabbi responded defensively, “Numerous cultists remain on their vessel, and I assure you, Rabbi hasn’t laid a finger on them…”

For a brief interlude, Lucretia remained introspective, grappling with a surge of apprehension that coursed through the intimate, soulful tether she felt deep within her core. Taking a deliberate pause to organize her racing thoughts, she finally voiced her concerns, “Always prioritize and remember the directives I provide. Adhering to them ensures your safety. Do not ever lose sight of the fact that the ship and each individual aboard are earmarked by my father. They are his game.”

The Rabbit’s voice resonated in immediate response, underscored with an acute sense of distress and urgency, “Yes, Rabbi comprehends fully. Rabbi promises to…”

Before he could finish, Lucretia terminated the connection, effectively silencing him.

Drawing a steadying breath, Lucretia mentally reached out, invoking another deeply ingrained bond within her essence.

Soon after, a distant voice acknowledged her. “Lucy, I am listening.”

“Papa, unsettling events are unfolding within the city-state,” intoned the “Sea Witch” with a marked gravitas, “In the tangible realm, the situation has escalated to alarming proportions. I urge you to return right away.”